


The Force Moves Brightly Around Cassian Andor

by AliciaSinCiudad



Series: AU - After Scarif [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Gen, I didn't even try to fit any missions into it they are literally just hanging out somewhere, K-2SO has inexplicably returned for maximum sass content, M/M, This is so silly please do not take it seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliciaSinCiudad/pseuds/AliciaSinCiudad
Summary: Spies must have many identities. Many names, many jobs, many origins. It can be hard to remember, with all those conflicting pieces of personal information, which ones are real. Add to that the varying calendars of different planets, moons, and space stations, and the result is that Cassian Andor did not actually know when his birthday was.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you have not read the others in this series - I use Spanish (Mexican) for Festan because that's where Diego Luna (the actor for Cassian) is from. I use Arabic (Levantine, as much as possible - I am *just* starting to learn Arabic) because the three actors for Jedhan characters have three different native languages, and possibly more secondary languages mixed in (I don't know if Riz Ahmed speaks Urdu because it doesn't say on wikipedia and he's not answering my calls), so I'm going with Levantine Arabic because a) Jedha was filmed in Jordan and b) I like the parallel between Jedha City and Mecca and/or Jerusalem, the idea of Jedhan being a holy language and there is so much holy writing in Arabic. And if I'm being honest, because c) Arabic is a language I've wanted to learn for a while, so it is more worth the effort for me to spend all this time looking up Arabic phrases and grammar, compared to Urdu or Cantonese (and English, obviously, is already being used for Standard.)
> 
> (Because what is the point of writing fanfic if you don't get to use it as an excuse to study Arabic and/or Spanish?)
> 
> I know that I got rid of K-2SO in "Hoth is Freaking Cold," but he is magically returned here for maximum sass content.

Spies must have many identities. Many names, many jobs, many origins. It can be hard to remember, with all those conflicting pieces of personal information, which ones are real. Add to that the varying calendars of different planets, moons, and space stations, and the result is that Cassian Andor did not actually know when his birthday was.

“That’s terrible,” Bodhi said. “Everyone has a birthday.”

“Not everyone,” K-2SO muttered.

“I didn’t say I don’t have a birthday,” Cassian replied. “I just said that I don’t know when it is.”

“Do you know how old you are?” Jyn asked.

“I don’t know. Thirty? Forty?” He glanced at Bodhi. “Definitely thirty. Very young. Very fit.”

“In our temple, we did not celebrate birthdays,” Chirrut said. “Every day is a celebration. Every day we celebrate our unity with the Force.”

“He doesn’t know his birthday, either,” Baze clarified.

“You are not a very good monk!” Chirrut pouted.

“When I was little, my Mama would make pudding for my birthday, with little fruits and nuts and all sorts of things.” Jyn’s eyes softened with the memory. “And my Papa would cook my favorite meal, roast turtle-duck with marsh apples.”

“My grandmother would make these cookies with dried fruit in them,” Bodhi recalled. “And that evening, she would let the birthday child choose what story she would tell by the fire. I had these cousins, Suhail and Sitara, who were twins, so on their night we would get two stories. I think I loved their birthdays more than my own.”

“On my birthday, I would wake up at dawn to pray, and Chirrut would tell me that he was one with the Force, and the Force was with him, because at the Temple, nobody celebrated birthdays.”

“You are not a very good monk!” Chirrut repeated.

“Well, that is all very nice,” Cassian said. “But I’ve gone – not too many years – _definitely_ not forty – without a birthday. I think I’ll be alright without one.”

Bodhi and Jyn exchanged a look. Clearly, they needed to throw Cassian a surprise birthday party.

 

 

It was difficult to find time to plan. When Bodhi mentioned going to the market with Jyn, Cassian insisted in going along with them. When Jyn asked Bodhi to give her a flying lesson, Cassian wanted to come too. When Cassian wanted to go for a walk with the two of them, they both claimed headaches just to stay behind. At which point, Cassian decided not to go, figuring he should stay and make an herbal brew for their headaches.

After two days of this, Bodhi woke up in the middle of the night, breathing hard and covered in sweat, but fortunately with no memory of the nightmare that had woken him. The nightmares had been both less frequent and less severe since he’d started sharing a bed with Cassian. He lay still, listening to Cassian breathe the slow and steady breathing of deep sleep. Slowly and carefully, Bodhi extracted himself from Cassian’s bunk, and went to Jyn’s quarters.

Jyn was tossing and turning in her sleep, so Bodhi didn’t feel too guilty about waking her. After a few moments of disorientation, she sat up, and asked Bodhi what was wrong.

“Nothing, sorry. Sorry for waking you. It’s just, if we don’t plan in the middle of the night, we’ll never get to plan the party at all.”

Jyn nodded. She didn’t ask what Bodhi had been doing awake in the middle of the night, and he didn’t ask why she’d been so restless. They both knew.

“Well, first of all,” she said, “we need to figure out what he’d want for a party. I mean, food, obviously, but what type of food, and what else?”

“I think you should be in charge of food,” Bodhi said. “I’m sure you’ve heard Cassian talk about my cooking.”

Jyn nodded. “I’ll try and get a hold of some festan recipes. But what else does he like?”

“Brooding?” Bodhi suggested. “Taking on too much responsibility? Staring off into the stars?”

“Is that what you two do on your own? Please, don’t answer that.”

Bodhi blushed. “I was guessing you weren’t asking about –”

“I wasn’t,” Jyn interrupted.

After a moment, Bodhi continued. “I know he likes to play limmie. Maybe we could try to set up a game, three on three?”

Jyn laughed. “How would we evenly match the teams? Do you suppose the Guardians even know how to play limmie?”

Bodhi laughed, too. “Imagine if we tried to split the two up. Baze would just flat out refuse, and keep passing to Chirrut anyway.”

“And K-2 would be a total ball-hog.”

“Ok, so limmie’s out. Do you have any ideas?”

“Well, I know he likes to cook, but we can’t exactly have him cook for his own surprise party.”

Bodhi sighed. “So we’ve got nothing. I woke you up for nothing. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. We’ll think of something. While we’re both up, can you teach me some more Jedhan before you go back to bed? I swear the Guardians keep talking about me because they know I can’t understand them.”

“Oh, that? Honestly, they mostly just bicker about things, and then throw your name in to make you paranoid.”

“I used to think Chirrut was so innocent!”

“Oh, you have no idea… Anyway, let’s work on your conjugation.”

 

 

The next morning, Bodhi woke up to an empty bed. Judging by the sun coming in the window, he had slept a little later than usual, probably from staying up teaching Jedhan to Jyn. On the one hand, that meant he didn’t get to wake up to Cassian. But on the other hand, it meant he probably got to wake up to breakfast.

He made his way to the galley, and was not disappointed. Cassian was cooking something delicious-smelling, and Baze was pouring Chirrut a cup of caf.

“Is there enough caf for me to have some?” Bodhi asked.

Baze rolled his eyes. “No. I made just enough for everyone but you.” He poured Bodhi a cup. “Careful. It’s hot. And strong.”

Bodhi resisted the urge to ask “Like you?” It would not be worth the consequences. “SabaaH al-khair, habibi,” he greeted Cassian, only to get a grunt in return. He furrowed his brow. “Ma bika?” he asked.

“It’s too early for a Jedhan lesson,” Cassian grumbled.

“I was just asking what’s wrong,” Bodhi said softly, walking over to Cassian and giving him a hug from behind.

“Don’t hug me when I’m cooking!” Cassian snapped without turning around. “I could burn you. Or burn me.”

“He’s just grumpy because he noticed a grey hair this morning,” Chirrut said placidly.

Bodhi checked. Sure enough, by Cassian’s right temple, there was a single grey hair.

“How in the galaxy did you know?” Bodhi asked, a little in awe.

“The Force moves brightly around grey hairs,” Chirrut smiled.

“I told him,” Baze translated.

“I knew you were talking about me in Jedhan.” Cassian muttered.

“It’s nice, Cassian,” Bodhi assured him. “It makes you look very distinguished.”

“You think I’m old, don’t you?” Cassian asked, still not facing Bodhi.

“Not at all!” Bodhi insisted. “I had a cousin whose hair started receding at twenty-three. By the time he was thirty, he was nearly bald.”

“Was he handsome, your cousin?” Cassian asked, finally turning around.

“I don’t know, I thought he was kind of a toad…” Bodhi realized a bit late why Cassian was asking. “But of course I was biased. He used to bully me when I was a kid.”

“Pendejo,” Cassian muttered. “I should beat him up.”

Bodhi shrugged. “You might have. He ended up in the Imperial Army. They conscripted anyone of age.”

Baze set down the caf-pot with a thud. “It’s too early for this type of conversation.” He took a sip of caf. “Let’s go back to talking about how Cassian will look with all grey hair.”

“You mean it isn’t all grey yet?” Chirrut asked innocently.

“Careful, I might accidentally put too much chili in your breakfast,” Cassian warned.

“You can’t trick me,” Chirrut retorted. “The Force moves spicily around breakfast with too much chili.”

 

 

Most nights, they took turns telling each other stories over dinner.

Bodhi loved to recount the tales his grandmother used to tell. Sometimes he translated them into Basic, but more often than not, he told the stories in their original form, to keep the language alive as much as to give Cassian and Jyn practice with their Jedhan. He also drew upon his strange experiences flying around the galaxy as a cargo pilot. When he was up to it, he talked about his family and friends, although it was difficult to talk about Jedha too much.

Chirrut recited holy texts. Bodhi’s family hadn’t been particularly religious, but there was something comforting and familiar in these texts that always put him in a mellow mood. Other nights, Chirrut would recount parables, which Baze would interrupt with dubious “corrections.” Bodhi was fairly certain, for example, that there was no actual Parable of the Monk Who Snored Surprisingly Loudly For a Man of His Size.

Jyn and Cassian would try to out-do each with tales of their daring adventures, giving each other a hard time every time Jyn mentioned breaking a rule or Cassian mentioned following one. “You don’t eat fish in front of the Mon Calamari!” he would mutter in horror, “You just don’t!” And Jyn would shrug and make some comment about how no one else was going to eat it and one should never let food go to waste. K-2SO would take on a Baze-like role in Cassian’s stories, interrupting and correcting him until Cassian would threaten to activate the mute-mode. “I’m sorry if I happen to have a perfect memory unclouded by emotion and wishful thinking,” the droid would mutter petulantly.

K-2SO had the mythology of over a thousand cultures on his hard drive, and he had a knack for choosing the most convoluted myths to tell over dinner. The one good thing about his stories was that Bodhi always slept well those nights. Although falling asleep at the dinner table sometimes led to a sore neck in the morning.

One night, Baze came into the common room and dramatically thumped a large bottle on the table. “It’s my turn,” he said. “No parables, no clearly exaggerated self-serving stories, no whatever it is K-2 goes on about. Tonight, you are all learning Jedhan drinking songs.”

“Baze!” Chirrut cried in horror.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t teach me half of them.”

“Is that… Corellian brandy?” Cassian asked in awe. “How did you get a hold of that?”

“It’s just an old bottle I reused,” Baze explained. “This is home-brew.”

Jyn grinned. “Bring it on!”

K-2 shook his head. “I have a bad –”

“Bring it on!” Cassian interrupted, looking determined. “I’ll have you know that as a Captain and a spy, I can out-drink you all.”

“Now I _definitely_ have a bad –”

“Mute-mode,” Cassian threatened, and K-2 fell silent. Bodhi went to get glasses. This was going to be an interesting night.

Bodhi woke up the next morning feeling alright. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he had learned how to seem like he was drinking more than he was to avoid “teasing” (i.e., bullying) in the Imperial Army. Cassian, on the other hand, looked like hell. “You really shouldn’t try to keep up with Baze when it comes to drinking,” Bodhi chided him. “Not at our age.”

Cassian groaned. “Are you saying you think I’m older than Baze? Wait. Don’t answer that.”

“I’m saying that no one over the age of twenty can keep up with him. He is clearly ageless.” Bodhi cast a sympathetic glance at Cassian. “Can I get you anything? Water? A bucket?”

Cassian sighed painfully. “Can you make the sun a little less bright? This planet is altogether too sunny.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bodhi replied mock seriously, starting to climb out of bed.

Cassian grabbed his arm. “Wait. Don’t go. Stay a little bit longer, will you? Your hands are the perfect temperature right now.” That was probably one of the weirdest compliments Bodhi had ever gotten, but he’d take it. Anything that gave him the excuse to spend more time in bed with Cassian.

“Oh, anything for you, Habibi,” he murmured, kissing Cassian on the temple. There were a few more grey hairs this morning. They really did make Cassian look distinguished, but he knew better than to mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suhail is the name of the second brightest star in the sky, and Sitara means star.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also added some more onto chapter one. So if you're just checking the update, read the last section of chapter one as well.

“Where are you two going?” Cassian asked. Bodhi bit back a Jedhan curse word. Another two days had passed without an opportunity to be alone with Jyn, but this morning, Cassian had been nowhere in sight, and Bodhi had thought that he and Jyn were in the clear.

“We’re going for a run,” Jyn answered, before Bodhi could say anything. He bit back another Jedhan curse word. That was precisely the wrong thing to say to lose Cassian’s interest. Why hadn’t she said they were going to talk about the Force with Chirrut? Although, he supposed there was a limit to credibility.

“Mind if I tag along?” Cassian asked, as Bodhi had assumed he would.

“Oh, well, you know, Cassian, I never really get any time alone with Bodhi…”

“You think I can’t keep up with you, no?” Cassian got that determined look on his face, and Bodhi knew that all was lost.

“That’s not it…” Jyn started, apparently unaware that the more she denied it, the harder Cassian would dig his heels in.

“You think I don’t know what you’re thinking? I’m too old to keep up, too out of shape. And so old I don’t even know that you think these things about me.”

“Cassian, you’re being paranoid.” Jyn was not picking up Bodhi’s telepathic messages to give in to the inevitable.

“Ah, yes, paranoia, it’s part of old age.”

“Alright, Cassian,” Bodhi sighed, “you can come with us under one condition. Stop. Talking. About. Your age.”

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your elder?” Cassian asked, mock offended.

Bodhi regretted having taught so many Jedhan curse words to Cassian, because he certainly understood every single one that came pouring out of Bodhi’s mouth. Especially once Bodhi realized that they now actually had to go for a run.

Twenty minutes in, Bodhi found himself winded. He considered himself in pretty good shape – he’d been a soldier, after all – but Jyn was much quicker than he’d expected. As they paused for a drink, Bodhi mentioned his surprise to Jyn.

“I’m a woman,” Jyn replied off-handedly. “Women have to perform twice as well to get half the recognition.”

“Sounds like being a Jedhan in the Imperial Army,” Bodhi mused.

“And yet, I’m still so much faster than you.”

Bodhi was not about to let that go. Certainly not in front of his boyfriend. He took one last gulp of water and sprinted off as fast as he could, saving nothing for the rest of the run back. Jyn laughed and took off after him.

Jyn passed Bodhi easily, and was soon out of sight. By the time Bodhi got home, Jyn had already undressed and was in a towel, heading for the showers. “To the victor goes the hot water,” she gloated, without a trace of fatigue.

“I hate you,” Bodhi gasped.

“Oh! We probably have a few minutes to talk about the party before Cassian gets here.”

Bodhi just shook his head, still gulping for air. By the time he’d be able to speak intelligibly, Cassian would already have arrived. He collapsed into a chair, toeing off his boots, and closed his eyes. When Cassian arrived a few minutes later, Bodhi had already fallen asleep.

 

 

The next day, Cassian insisted on going out for a run with Jyn. Bodhi was sure it had something to do with proving himself to be in good shape, but he didn’t care. Just thinking about the run from the previous day made him tired. He was staying in, thank you very much.

The problem with hanging out without Jyn and Cassian was that you ended up having to deal with Baze and Chirrut bickering about the Force (and about everything else), and being pointedly ignored by K-2SO. Bodhi figured it was a good a time as any to see if he could recreate his grandmother’s birthday cookies. Or anything edible.

He could not.

Bodhi was cleaning up the kitchen, when Cassian and Jyn returned. Cassian had a slight limp, which he was clearly trying, unsuccessfully, to hide.

“Cassian, are you alright?” Bodhi asked, wiping his hands on a towel and all but running over to him.

“I’m fine,” Cassian replied, gritting his teeth.

“What happened?” Bodhi asked, turning to Jyn. She shrugged, looking worried.

“I tried to go easy on him, I swear!”

“You don’t need to go easy on me!” Cassian grumbled. “It’s just an old war injury acting up. I mean, a recent injury. I don’t have old injuries.”

“He strained his tibialis posterior,” K-2SO provided helpfully.

“What do you know? You don’t even have muscles.”

“You’re right, Cassian. I’ve only got entire libraries of information on the human body in my hard drive, and have spent over ten years observing your every movement. What could I possibly know about your anatomy?”

Cassian groaned. “I don’t strain my muscles _,_ K. I’m in excellent shape.”

“Would you like some sage tea?” Chirrut asked. “I brew it whenever Baze pulls something. We have to be careful as we get older.”

“I said I don’t strain my muscles.”

“You should stretch more,” Baze said bluntly. Not that he ever said things any other way.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” Cassian said tersely.

“Would you like me to massage your calf?” Bodhi asked. “I think I have some rosemary oil in my bag.”

Cassian faltered. Bodhi wondered which would win out – pride or desire. He was hoping for the latter.

“I guess it hurts a _little,_ ” Cassian admitted. “Let me take off my boots.”

 

 

The next day at breakfast, Bodhi made Jyn promise no more running with anyone else. “You’re going to kill us all,” he told her.

She shrugged. “It’s hard having to hide my many talents all the time, but I suppose I’ll manage.”

“How about a jog, then?” Cassian asked. He wasn’t going to give up, was he? Couldn’t he understand that _no one_ could keep up with Jyn? She was probably half-chaakrabbit.

Before Jyn could respond, Bodhi said, “How about a _walk_?” while giving Jyn his best glare.

Jyn shrugged. “Sure. I’ve been meaning to check out this path I noticed the other day. It’s probably best to walk the first time we explore it. Besides, it will be nice to have a chat with Cassian. What do you say?”

“Sure. Let me get my jacket.”

“Would you like to borrow my walking staff?” Chirrut asked innocently. He probably missed Cassian’s less-than-polite reply, as he was taken off guard by Baze’s backhand to the back of the head.

Bodhi supposed he might as well try attempt number two at cooking. This time with a bit of assistance.

“K,” he started tentatively.

“Yes?” The droid turned his head with a slight whir. Bodhi swallowed. Although K-2SO had started out hating Jyn the most, he’d warmed up to her (as much as a droid can warm up to anyone), but he was less than cordial to the man who took his best friend away from him every night.

“I, er, I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

“Clearly you can.”

“Right. Er. Well. You mentioned before, you’ve spent years observing Cassian’s every move.”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever seen him cook?”

“Obviously.”

“And have you analyzed the results of his cooking?”

“I can pick up data from molecules in the air, much like what organic creatures call smell. And there is a lot one can analyze from visuals and heat patterns.”

“Do you – do you think you could teach me how to cook?”

Bodhi hadn’t realized that droids could snort, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Cassian had been the one to reprogram him, after all. “There is a 7.35% chance of success.”

“I’ll take it.”

“There is a 4.7% chance of you poisoning Cassian.”

“I’ll taste the food first.”

“There is a 26% chance that you will burn the building down.”

“I’ll keep plenty of water on hand.”

“I was taking that into account.”

Bodhi sighed. “So will you teach me or not?”

“Oh, I’ll teach you, if you can be taught. I just thought you should be informed going in.”

 

 

Over the next two weeks, Jyn found excuses to get Cassian out of the house nearly every day. It wasn’t too hard, since she and Cassian were both so outdoorsy. At first, Cassian grumbled when Bodhi didn’t come along, but after a few days, he stopped asking him, apparently enjoying his time alone with Jyn.

“Should I be jealous?” Bodhi asked one morning as Jyn and Cassian took off for their now-daily hike.

“Yes,” Jyn said airily, “but not for the reason you’re asking. You should be jealous of me because I’m so amazing in general.”

“I’d invite you to come this time,” Cassian said, “but then we couldn’t talk about you. Have fun playing cards with Baze!”

Bodhi rolled his eyes. He got out the cards, and dealt himself and Baze a hand while Jyn and Cassian got their boots and jackets on. He was half-way through a round when the two finally left, and he could go to the kitchen for his cooking lesson with K-2.

“You aren’t going to finish the round?” Baze asked grumpily.

“Baze, the card game is a front. Time is of the essence here!”

“You’re just sore because you know you were going to lose,” Baze grumbled.

“No, he’s just sore because he knows how slim a probability he has of successfully learning to cook,” K-2 responded.

“I thought he was just sore because he tried to keep up with Jyn the other day,” Chirrut piped up. “You really should stretch more.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen if anyone tires of teasing me!” Bodhi snapped.

“And where will you be if we don’t?” K-2 asked. Bodhi did not dignify the comment with a reply.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super insecure about my Arabic here, and the more research I do, the more I get the feeling that the concept of "Arabic" is less one language with many dialects, and more like a language family. I may have put an embarrassing amount of time attempting to find out how to say "I love you, too" specifically in Jordanian Arabic. At least it's similar to the variety I'm trying to learn now, so I guess it's not all wasted effort. But if anyone speaks any dialect of Levantine Arabic, wanna correct me?
> 
> On an unrelated note, I'm now kicking myself for going with a standard "Festan" for nationality (planetality?) and language, and wish that at least for the nationality I'd gone with "Fiestan" or "Fiestero/a". Because I imagine Captain Andor would be the absolute worst at parties, physically incapable of cracking a grin, and I am easily amused.

When it came to presents, Jyn and Bodhi were both completely at a loss. Cassian had a remarkable lack of personal effects. He packed light, preferring to improvise with what he had rather than over-pack, so anything that didn’t serve a functional purpose was definitely out of the question. They probably wouldn’t have even known where he was from, if he hadn’t slipped into Festan from time to time.

Chirrut was no help on this front. He just went on about how presence was the best present. Baze suggested another bottle of his home-brew, which was not a terrible idea. Bodhi wondered if said home-brew was one of the reasons Baze had managed to stay friends with Chirrut for so long. It would certainly explain the rosiness to Baze’s cheeks.

“You know, K-2SO is our best resource,” Jyn whispered to Bodhi one evening over dishes. They had discovered that dish-washing was one time they could be alone together. Cassian insisted that the cook should never have to clean up after dinner.

“I suppose you’re right,” Bodhi admitted. “Would you mind –”

“Why don’t you ask him during one of your cooking lessons?” Jyn asked quickly, before Bodhi could finish his question. Damn, she was faster than him at everything.

“I – I suppose…”

“That would be great, thanks,” Jyn smiled. Bodhi could see how she’d managed to survive so long on her wits and charm. Sometimes he hated her, just a little.

“How did you get K-2 to stop hating you so much, anyway?” Bodhi asked.

“Oh, I didn’t have to do anything. He just started hating _you_ more when you started dating Cassian.”

“Lovely.”

“I suppose if you really want K-2 to hate you less, you could break up with Cassian. Although, then he’d probably just hate you for breaking Cassian’s heart. Have I ever mentioned how strong K-2 is? When he ‘liberated’ me, I thought he was going to break my spine.”

“Yes, you did mention that, as a matter of fact. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather talk to him yourself?”

“Bodhi, my friend, whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“Oh, I’m already plenty strong. Did I tell you I out-benched Cassian yesterday?” That would explain why Cassian’s arms had been so sore last night. Bodhi was going to have to buy more rosemary oil soon. He wondered if a massage would count as a good birthday present. And from Jyn, maybe a day or two without giving Cassian a reason to need one.

 

 

According to K-2SO, Cassian did not like receiving presents. “He doesn’t even like receiving medals,” he told Bodhi. “The first time he left his medal on a base, I retrieved it for him, believing it to have been a mistake. But I soon realized that he was leaving the medals behind on purpose. I’d say that it was a strange behavior, but the concept of non-functional objects is so much stranger to me.”

“So what _does_ he like?” Bodhi asked.

“Cooking. Limmie. Brooding. Taking on too much responsibility. Staring off into the stars.”

“Jyn and I already thought of all those things. But we can’t have him cook for his own surprise party, and we couldn’t figure out a good way to split us up into teams for limmie.”

“What about brooding? You don’t need teams for brooding.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bodhi replied, wondering if K-2 was being sarcastic, or was just that out-of-touch about normal human behavior. After all, his model for human behavior had been Cassian Andor.

“What he really wants is… oh, I can’t tell you.”

“What?”

“He made me promise not to tell anyone.”

“You can’t just leave me like this!”

“Do you really expect me to betray Cassian for _you?_ ”

“It’s not betrayal if it’s for a good cause! It’s to make him happy! Don’t you want to make Cassian happy?”

“Yes, of course I do, but he keeps insisting that he actually prefers to keep you and the others around. I can’t imagine why – we were doing fine on our own before the four of you came along. Especially _you._ He was definitely doing fine without you.”

“K, I know you used to have Cassian to yourself, and now you have to share him with all of us. But _you_ have all of us too. You’re one of us now.”

“Please, I am far superior to any of you organic beings.”

“Even to Cassian?”

“Well… Cassian is remarkably capable for a human. Sometimes I forget he’s not a droid. Until he makes stupid mistakes like dating you, or straining a muscle trying to prove himself to Jyn.”

“But he _is_ human, K. So tell me – what does Cassian really want?”

“He once admitted to me that he gets jealous of others when they celebrate birthdays and the like. He said that he doesn’t want the presents, he just wants to be acknowledged.”

“That’s… that’s really sweet. I think we can manage that. Thanks, K-2. You’re a good friend.”

“I’m his best friend,” K-2 replied huffily.

Bodhi realized that K-2 hadn’t mentioned a single statistic in the entire conversation. Maybe the two of them really were progressing.

 

 

Bodhi woke up in the middle of the night, shivering. The blankets were tucked tight about him, but he was alone. He had come to rely on Cassian’s body heat to keep him warm at night. He checked Cassian’s pillow and found it cold, as though Cassian had been gone for a while. Biting his lip so his teeth wouldn’t chatter, Bodhi slipped out of bed in search of his partner.

As he shuffled down the hallway, Bodhi noticed a light on in the bathroom. He tapped softly. “Cassian, that you?” he semi-whispered. He got no answer. He tapped a bit harder, and said slightly more loudly, “Cassian, is that you? I’m coming in.”

The door was unlocked. Bodhi slowly opened the door to find Cassian staring at himself in the mirror, his face grim.

“Cassian, what’s wrong?” he asked, slipping his arms around him, as much to comfort Cassian as to feel a bit of warmth.

Cassian shrugged, wrapping his arms around Bodhi as well, without taking his gaze off the image in the mirror. “How old are you, Bodhi?”

“I’m thirty-three. So probably about your age. Why are you so obsessed about this?”

“Thirty three,” Cassian repeated. “Did you do anything special for your thirtieth birthday?”

“Not really. Birthdays were pretty uneventful once my grandmother passed. If my unit-mates found out, they would use it as an excuse to drink, and to give me a hard time about not drinking as much as they did. It wasn’t exactly something I looked forward to.” He paused. What if he and Jyn were just setting Cassian up for something he was going to hate?

“You were close to your grandmother, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know if I would say ‘close.’ She was the matriarch. As long as she was around, maybe we were hungry some nights, but we had her stories. Maybe an Storm Trooper scared my little cousin in the market, but my grandmother would explain why he was so much braver than the Storm Trooper who didn’t even dare to show his face to the child he taunted. When we argued, she would have words of wisdom to help us resolve things. She was a guiding force, no pun intended.”

“Was she religious?”

 “A little. Not really. But she did care about preserving our culture, our way of life. I would never have become an Imperial pilot while she was alive. When she passed, though, things sort of fell apart in our household. Without her, the hunger hurt more, the poverty stung more. I took a job that would bring us some money. I resolved never to be the type to taunt children in the market. I told myself I would make things better for Jedha from inside the system. But honestly, I was just looking out for me and mine. My grandmother would have been so ashamed.”

Cassian squeezed Bodhi’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Bodhi shrugged. He wasn’t sure what Cassian meant – sorry that his grandmother had passed, or that Bodhi had made such an unforgivable decision. “You didn’t answer though – why are you so obsessed about your age?”

“I don’t know. It just feels weird not to know it. It’s such a basic fact about myself. Like, I am Cassian Andor, I am human, I am from Fest, and I am this many years old. It’s this missing piece, and it bothers me. Such a simple question, do I know how old I am, and I couldn’t say that I did.”

“But age is just a number, isn’t it? I mean, you know how you feel, you know what your relative health is.”

“I know that I’m past my prime, and I don’t know how long I have left. It didn’t matter when I was a soldier and a spy, because no one knew how long they had left, decades or years or minutes. But now, we are not in such danger, and I ask myself – how much longer do I have? How does it compare to you? Maybe you should find yourself someone with a similar expiration date.”

“What the hell, Cassian? Expiration date? First of all, we _still_ don’t know how much longer we have. I could get struck by lightning tomorrow, and it wouldn’t matter if I’m thirty-three or seventy-three, that would be it.”

“Don’t talk like that!”

“Don’t –? Cassian, you bought it up first. And second of all, let’s say you _are_ older than me, and that there was some guarantee that this meant you would go before me. I would rather have five good years with you than forty with someone of a similar ‘expiration date’.”

This seemed to be what Cassian had needed to hear. His body relaxed, and his grim expression softened into one of sleepiness. “Do you miss your grandmother?” he asked.

“Of course. Like I said, she was a guiding force in my family. I felt lost without her, directionless. I probably would still feel that way if I hadn’t met Galen.”

Suddenly, Cassian stiffened. “Bodhi. What was your relationship with Galen Erso?”

“Why are you asking me this now?” Bodhi didn’t like where this was going.

“You have a thing for older men, don’t you?”

“Cassian Andor, you are a man obsessed, and if you don’t get back into bed with me soon, I’m going to… to… to freeze to death, Cassian, because it is freaking cold at night.”

“I’m sorry! I thought the blankets would be enough.”

“They are not. My teeth were chattering.” He leaned his head on Cassian’s shoulder. “Come back to bed, will you?”

“Alright, Bodhi, I’m coming.” Cassian kissed Bodhi on the forehead, then drew his arms back. Bodhi reluctantly drew his own arms back, and led Cassian back to their bedroom. He gave a little sigh of relief when they were both safely back under the covers, Cassian’s arms around him, breath warm on the back of his neck.

“Good night, Cassian. Te quiero.”

“Wa ana bahibak,” Cassian replied, kissing Bodhi on the back of the head. After a pause, he added. “You never answered about your relationship with Galen Erso.”

Bodhi pretended he was already asleep.

 

 

Jyn, Bodhi, and Cassian were playing a game of Sabacc in the common room, when Baze ran in, looking worried but determined.

“Help,” said gruffly. “It’s Chirrut.”

“What’s happened?” Jyn asked, getting up.

“He’s hurt, and I can’t get him back on my own without doing more damage.”

“Where is he?” Bodhi asked, starting to look worried himself.

“Out in the woods. This is your fault, by the way,” Baze said turning to Cassian.

“My fault?”

“You and your stupid obsession with proving how fit you are. Chirrut decided that he needed to prove himself too, and went off hiking on his own. Tripped over a damned root. At least he took our favorite path, otherwise I would never have found the stubborn old fool. I need help bringing him back. Who’s coming?”

“I’ll do it,” Cassian said, standing up. “I am a Captain, this is my responsibility.”

“No, Cassian, you stay put,” Jyn insisted. “I’ve got it.”

“Jyn, you’re strong, but I am at least fifteen centimeters taller than you. And as Baze said, this is my fault.”

“I don’t care _who_ comes with me,” Baze grunted, “But _someone_ needs to come, and now!”

“Right,” Cassian said, grabbing his boots. “Bodhi, Jyn, you two stay here. Make some sage tea, and prepare his bed. We will be back soon.”

Jyn and Bodhi nodded seriously. Jyn headed to the kitchen, while Bodhi headed to Chirrut and Baze’s room. After a minute, Bodhi heard the door slam shut, and he headed to the kitchen himself.

“Good thing Cassian’s so easily manipulated,” Jyn commented, handing Bodhi a cutting board. “Alright, you start making the tamales, and I’ll do the cake.”

The tamales were still in the steamer when K-2SO came into the kitchen to warn them. “You have precisely 2 minutes and thirteen seconds before they come inside. I suggest you hide the cake in Jyn’s room.”

“Done,” Jyn nodded, carrying it away. Bodhi arranged the pot of sage tea and five teacups in the common room, then sat in wait. He heard Baze’s cursing before he saw them. Jyn was returning to the common room when Bodhi went to open the door for the three returning men.

Bodhi suppressed a grin as Baze muttered at Chirrut in Jedhan. He should be more careful what he said – Cassian’s Jedhan really was coming along now, and he must have noticed the digs about his hair that Baze slipped in while reprimanding Chirrut, as well as the implications about Cassian’s relative prowess in bed.

“Hello, friends,” Chirrut smiled, as the other two carried him inside. “The sofa here will be fine, thank you. I can smell that Jyn has brewed sage tea. That will be lovely.”

“Actually, Bodhi brewed it,” Jyn corrected him.

“In that case, I do not need it.”

“It’s tea!” Bodhi protested as Chirrut was set down beside him. “How do you think I can ruin tea?”

“You are a man of many talents,” Chirrut replied.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “After carrying Chirrut so far, _I_ will take some tea. I don’t understand how such a thin man can be so difficult to carry.”

“He squirms,” Baze muttered.

As Bodhi poured the tea and handed out mugs, Cassian sniffed, an odd look on his face. “Do I smell… tamales?”

Bodhi broke into a grin. “Maybe…”

K-2SO entered at that moment, carrying the cake, a fresh bottle of Baze’s Brew, and a card signed by everyone (Baze had signed for Chirrut, of course). “Happy Possible Birthday!” everyone shouted in unison. Cassian’s eyes widened.

“No me lo creo… you guys, I can’t believe…”

“Oh, believe it,” Jyn said, grinning widely herself.

“I can’t believe you guys made me carry Chirrut for over two kilometers because of a prank! As soon as I’ve had my tea, I will have to kill all of you.”

“At least have a tamal first,” Bodhi said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I worked really hard on them. And K-2 says they’re actually quite good.”

“I didn’t say that,” K-2 sniffed. “I just said that, molecularly, they are similar to what Cassian would make. And there is only a 2.6% chance that they will kill him.”

“Read the card,” Chirrut said, bouncing eagerly. “You know I can’t.”

“Happy definitely-not-40th-birthday,” Cassian read, his expression softening. He opened it, and frowned. “But possibly 41st.”


End file.
